


Stories of the Second Self: Cupid’s Bite

by John_Steiner



Series: Alter Idem [52]
Category: Urban Fantasy - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:27:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22534720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/John_Steiner/pseuds/John_Steiner
Summary: Having successfully disappeared into post-Alter Idem Cincinnati, Gerard Carey of the Hard Six vampire gang still hasn't shed his love of Open Feeding. However, while "grocery shopping" in the more wooded part of the park Gerard is smitten by a vampire woman who is making a purchase of 470 milliliters of blood with her human son in tow.
Series: Alter Idem [52]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618813





	Stories of the Second Self: Cupid’s Bite

Everyday, I walk home through this patch of woods. Others would be freaked out but not me. I'd seen worse, and generally speaking, I am worse. In fact, people's wariness of these woods has a lot to do with me, though I'm hardly the only one I'm sure.

It's not always filled with mist, but it's mid-fall in a part of the county that often sees its first snow in early October. In case it's not clear, mist happens in the morning which is when people like me need to hightail it home before sunrise. Oh, I keep a tight-weave winter coat and polarized face shield on hand, just in case, but psychologically it's uncomfortable knowing there's a death ray in the sky.

I hear voices, and jerk my head side to side seeking cover. By the time footsteps reach my ears I huddle down amid the brush.

"Come on!" a woman's voice says, "Fifty? Are you shitting me?"

"I can get at least that donating to a bank," the man answers.

"Shit, okay," the woman replies, and I hear something snap open.

Daring to peek out, I see a woman sifting through her cash, and a small boy standing next to her. I can tell from their heat that she's dead, but the kid and the man clearly aren't. Each offers enough illumination to light up the ground and surrounding growth a few feet away.

"Say," the guy waves to her with the hand he accepted money with. "Aren't you one of those people living in that old mortuary?"

"I'm here to do business, not talk," she curtly answers.

"Are you going to wait until he's an adult before turning him?" the man asks, heedless of her refusal to get personal.

"None of your concern," she says with an edgier tone.

Must be a sensitive issue, I figure, and suspect the boy's her son. At first, I think it's a drug deal, except I'd never heard of someone selling so cheap and getting complaints. However, with money trading hands, the woman then pulls off a backpack and removes surgical tubing, a needle and an IV bag.

"I'll be damned," I mouth silently, "All this time I could just pay for blood?"

"You know, there's been attacks in these woods," the man notes.

"You're safe while I'm here," she says.

"I'm talking about other vampires," the man clarifies.

"That's why I always carry a UVC light," the blood dealer adds, "And some other things, since it's not just you nightcrawlers we gotta worry about."

"That's not a nice thing to say to my mom," the boy complains.

"Don't talk to him," she mildly scolds her kid.

"Your mom doesn't mind," he tells her son.

"And you, definitely don't talk to my son," she hardens up her tone to the man while kneeling to connect everything together and swab the inside of his elbow. "I pay you enough that I don't have to put up with your shit."

"Say you did?" the blood dealer suggests, while fishing into his back pocket. "In fact, suppose I decided I changed my mind?"

"You already have my money," she warns with a glare up at the man. "So, unless you're offering a full refund we're going through this."

"Maybe I say otherwise." the blood dealer pulls his UVC light out and points it at her, ready to turn it on.

I don't know why, but I feel uncharacteristically chivalrous and am about to step out to deal with this guy. Except, the lady vampire stands up and gives him a steady glare. "Put that away."

"Walk away first," the blood dealer warns.

Having none of that, she instead grabs his wrist. He turns the light on, getting a scream out of her, but she then bends his wrist far enough that he drops the UVC light, and then she plants a heel behind his legs. With a twist about the hips, she has him on the ground. From there she presses her knee to his chest and forcibly pins his wrists together over his head.

"Think I don't know about you, Jolene?" the man gnashes while squirming, but unable to break free. "All I have to do is tell the cops you forced blood from me, and then Terry ends up in a foster home while you're in prison."

"Then I'll tell other vampires who broke a deal," the woman, I now know is named Jolene trades threat for threat. "Forget about ever selling again, and that's not the worst of it."

I like this Jolene. Tough, but not vicious like Nadine was. The five I used to ride with were all cruel, just like me, but Jolene is just hard enough to get by.

"Need a hand?" I couldn't help myself, but come out and talk to her.

"I got it, thank you," she replies before looking up. "Oh."

"Yeah, me too," I say, hoping she's being as cryptic about being a vampire as I am.

She uses one stretch of tubing to tie his wrists, and then recleans his arm before putting a line in. "By the way, Frank, I'm still going to tell other vampires about you. You're done selling. And, the only blood bank you'll be able to give to after everyone knows about you is the Red Cross. They don't pay for it, either."

The Frank the former blood dealer looks up to me as if to demand I do something, until he sees my eyes while I wave at him. "Shit."

"Price gouging is also not on the cool side," I tell him.

"Fuck you," Frank spits at me.

Jolene slaps hid hard across the face, "My boy doesn't need to hear that."

"Are you kidding?" Frank complains, his struggles speeding the blood withdraw along.

"Would it be alright if I introduced myself?" I ask her.

"Suits yourself," Jolene replies, focusing on the pint-sized medical bag.

"I'm Gerard," I offer my hand.

She reaches up, but barely shakes my hand before quickly reaching down for Frank's shoulder. "Who said you're done?"

"Look, I understand you not giving your name," I tell Jolene, "Just that I wanted to meet you when I first saw you."

"Yeah? When was that?" she asks, removing the needle and applying a band-aid on top of a pad over the puncture.

"About a couple of minutes ago," I reply, getting a smirk out of her.

"Well, you seem like a nice enough guy," Jolene remarks.

"Not really," I say before I have time to think about it. "I mean, if any of us were nice people I doubt we would've turned in vampires."

"True," Jolene admits without looking, as she pushes the rest of the blood in the line into the bag. "I'd accept the offer for a date you're about to ask, but it's late and I have to get my kid ready for school."

"Hey, maybe tomorrow you and I could head out here earlier in the morning and shop together?" I propose.

"You've never bought blood before, have you?" Jolene observes, "Buying just before dawn is a courtesy to sellers."

With that, Frank looks up anxiously at me.

"Yeah, I didn't know it was a thing," I confess on the spot, despite my better judgment. "Used to ride with a bunch of bikers, and-- well, we did business a bit differently."

"You don't want to do that here," Jolene states, and then adds with a softer tone. "Cincinnati PD's pretty hard-nosed about that stuff, and they're not the worst to deal with around here. You're in Silverton."

"I thought Silverton was a pretty safe neighborhood," I say.

"Yeah, and there's a real estate guy who makes sure it stays that way," Jolene flushes out the friendly warning. "And by that, I don't mean getting the HOA all up in your business."

She wraps it up, and only with the blood safely in her pack and zipped up, does Jolene untie Frank and let up with her knee in his chest. Able to at last breathe normally, Frank just sits there and heaves, gawping up at me like I'm supposed to care.

"It's Jolene," she offers in turning around while walking her son out and smiling at me. "Though, you knew that, didn't you Gerard."

"Yeah, but thank you," I say, and then it suddenly occurs to me with a jolt. "Oh! Let me give you my number."

"I'm sure you'll find me again," she teases and ushers her son into the mist with light but confident strides.

I wait a couple minutes until I figure she's out of earshot, and then place my foot on Frank's chest just as he's about to get up. "Not so fast."

"Look, I can't sell to you now," Frank pleads, "Not after giving up 470 to Jolene."

It was a phrase I'd heard around Cincinnati for a while now, and I eventually learned it meant the number of milliliters of blood humans could safely give. The rule was the same for angels and Fae. Giants could give up a lot more, and more often, which many did because they had a hard time find enough work to pay for their eight-fold grocery bill. As to werewolves, one might lose double that every day and be fine.

On the latter most, I know from experience. I'm what as become known as an Open Feeder, and my only concern now was to no longer be pulling that shit in Silverton. I'd heard stories about some guy named Papa Delane Henry, and he sounded like a guy best not fucked with.

"Who said anything about selling?" I ask Frank, pretending to be perplexed, as I reach down and clamp a solid hold around his neck.

Dragging his struggling form, I make my way deeper into the woods. I'm sure there are some parks or major sewage lines I can dump his body.


End file.
